


on the edge of coming through

by ohallows



Series: give up control [4]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Infection, Loss of Bodily Autonomy, Memory Loss, Mind Control, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-01-21 07:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21295979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: She should sleep. She should really sleep.Something tickles on her stomach. She pulls the bottom of her cotton shirt up, and as she glances down, her mind goes blank in fear and shock.There are spots of blue on her stomach, tracing along the veins of her skin.
Series: give up control [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525868
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> azu sweetie i am so sorry you don’t deserve this but it is my brand now i have to infect the whole party

“ - think we should try this new route, might have better luck,” Zolf is saying, and Azu blinks herself back into wakefulness as he looks over at her. Odd. She must have dozed off for a moment while Zolf was explaining the plan; it’s understandable, of course, considering that they’ve barely gotten any sleep over the past few days. It’s also  _ embarrassing _ , falling asleep in the middle of the plan, but she can live with it. They’ve all been exhausted; Hamid’s fallen asleep against all of their sides at least once, and Cel seems to be the only one of them with any sort of energy. It might be the mysterious potions they’re chugging, which Azu doesn’t completely trust, and had politely declined when they offered one to her.

Azu doesn’t think anything of it. She’ll just ask Hamid to explain the plan once more to her, explain that she must have fallen asleep or zoned out,  _ something _ , and he’ll happily do so. He’s a good friend. 

“Azu? You okay?” Zolf asks, giving her a half-concerned look as she nods. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” she says, with a bright smile she doesn’t completely feel. But they don’t need to worry about her - there are much more pressing issues at hand, least of which is the fact that she’s a little tired.

She’ll nap later, she supposes. Her brain still feels tired, after all, and exhaustion pulls at her every step. It’s fine; once they get back to the inn, she’ll sleep for a day and then everything will be fine. 

They should be back within the day, so she doesn’t have a long time to wait. The thought of having her own bed and not having to sleep cramped on the hard ground is enough to keep her pushing forward through the afternoon.

—

Something’s wrong. Azu wakes up in the middle of the night and she  _ knows _ something is wrong. Her hand goes to her ax and she sits up in bed slowly, glancing around the room. It almost feels like someone’s there, like she’s being watched, although that’s… ridiculous. The inn is secure, warded, and they’d been sure they weren’t followed. It could be Hamid, or Zolf, or Cel (or evening Wilde, and although Azu really doesn’t know the man at  _ all,  _ she doesn’t think it’s something he would do). 

A quick glance of the room reveals no one, but the strange unsettling feeling doesn’t go away. She does one more loop around the room and, when no one magically reveals themselves, she goes back to her bed, sitting on the edge and not letting go of her ax. Maybe she really just is that tired that her brain is manufacturing spectres where there aren’t any. 

She should sleep. She should really sleep.

Something tickles on her stomach. She pulls the bottom of her cotton shirt up, and as she glances down, her mind goes blank in fear and shock.

There are spots of blue on her stomach, tracing along the veins of her skin. 

No. 

_ No, no, no. _

It can’t - it can’t be this. She didn’t even touch anyone, didn’t have any contact with anyone else, she can’t - it can’t be happening. Not to her. The room shifts around her as she stumbles, hand coming up to grip at the bedpost as she presses a shaking hand to her mouth. She - she has to tell someone, she - 

_ You don’t need to know about this yet,  _ a voice, not her own, says in her head, and she spins around, ax at the ready as she surveys the room at large. 

“Who’s there?” she demands, and the voice goes quiet. There’s no one in the room, but she still looks around suspiciously, and then the fear catches her again and she looks down at the clear blue lines of her veins. 

She has to warn Hamid, has to warn all of them, before the infection can take her. Has to get down into the cell, lock herself in, so she can’t hurt people. Can’t let herself be used as a weapon, can’t - 

_ I’m sorry, but you’re too soon, _ she hears again in her mind, almost regretful as it speaks to her. The ax drops from her hand as Azu goes still, staring ahead as her head tilts slightly to the side. She moves mechanically back to the bed and lays down, eyes shut.

—

Azu is missing time.

It’s been a long few days, and they’re all happy to be back at the inn, back in their own beds. They stay up late drinking the day they get back, although Wilde declines to join them, citing an entire mountain of paperwork and research. The chef of the inn kicks Zolf out of the kitchen (again) and whips up some meals for them all, setting the largest portions before Azu and Hamid, and then the wine begins flowing as they all toast to another successful mission. 

In the morning, Azu blinks awake, a bit bleary, and rubs at her temples. She’s got the beginnings of a headache blooming at the back of her head and her mouth is bone dry. There’s a glass of water at her bedside table and she drinks it gratefully, not remembering who put it there but thankful all the same. 

They don’t have anywhere to be today; Hamid made sure Wilde knew that they all will need a few days in between missions to rest and recuperate, and all of them had backed him up when Wilde hadn’t seemed best pleased. He’d capitulated in the end, agreeing that they all needed to be at their best when running missions. So Azu has a few days off, a few days where the pressure of having to save the world shifts to the back of her mind, and ever-constant weight.

Azu scratches at her neck absently and thinks back to the night before. She doesn’t completely remember how she got back to her room; she recalls drinking with Zolf and Hamid before the both of them retired to their room, and then she and Cel stayed up talking for a while longer. They have some absolutely fascinating stories, even though most of the stories involve them nearly blowing themselves up. Azu makes them promise multiple times to keep the explosions to a minimum, and they finally agree - Azu asks them to show their hands to make sure they aren’t crossing any fingers.

That’s about all she remembers - and now she’s awake in bed, all ten fingers, all ten toes. She hadn’t thought she’d drank that much last night, certainly not enough for her to lose her memory of it. She’ll have to ask Cel the next time she sees them, just for her own curiosity. It’s probably fine - maybe the orcish moonshine she was enjoying was a stronger batch. Nothing to be worried about. 

—

They’re in the middle of a mission when Azu is on watch and notices that her legs feel strange, almost as though they’re asleep. She glances down to rub some feeling back into them and frowns when the feeling doesn’t go away. As quietly as she can, she pulls off some of her armor and pulls up the ends of her trousers to around her knees, curious. 

Her legs are fractals of blue, spreading slowly across her veins, and she claps her hand over her mouth to muffle her own scream of shock and surprise. 

It can’t - she hasn’t even touched anyone, hasn’t been  _ near  _ an infected person in days, and there’s no way it could have advanced this slowly… could it? She’d never even noticed any signs, nothing that could indicate something was happening, and she hadn’t even seen a hint of it on her skin. 

She glances back at the rest of them - at her friends, who don’t know that she’s been compromised. She - she’s been openly affectionate with all of them, carrying Hamid, wrapping Cel in hugs, clapping Zolf on the shoulder… they could all be compromised. It could be all her fault, it could be that she was careless enough to get turned, she could have failed the people she loves  _ again. _

With a shaking breath she stands, hands clenched into fists. She doesn’t know how long it’s been, how many days,  _ hours _ maybe, she has left. There’s no other option - she has to tell them. This isn’t something she can keep from them, something she can hide. They deserve to know. If they leave now, they can be back at the inn and Azu can be locked up in the cell by nightfall tomorrow. She - she doesn’t let herself think about what might happen after that.

Resolve set, she straightens her shoulders determinedly and takes a step forward, intent on shaking her friends awake. 

_ Not yet, _ she hears, a whisper across her brain that she swears she’s heard before. Her body locks in place as her gaze drops to Hamid, and her jaw works even as no sound comes out. She tries to scream, tries to fight against whatever force is holding her in place, but it’s useless. Her mind races as she tries to find a way out, a way to warn them, and then her entire stance changes. 

Azu’s eyes slip shut for a moment, and her body relaxes, shoulders dropping as though a weight of guilt has been lifted from her back. Methodically, she brushes her trousers back down to her ankles and replaces the armor, pulling all the straps tightly. The fire crackles in the background as Azu sits there, motionless, staring straight ahead into the darkness.

—

Something’s wrong.

“Azu, what happened out there? You completely froze!” Hamid’s asking, looking at her worriedly. Azu wants to answer, she really does, but she doesn’t  _ remember _ . Bits and pieces of it are stuck in her head; she remembers the ambush, she remembers the streaks of blue running down their skin, but then… nothing. 

“I’m - I’m sorry, Hamid, I didn’t…” she trails off, trying desperately to find some sort of explanation. Nothing comes to her, nothing that makes  _ sense _ , so she lets it hang there as the worry in Hamid’s expression increased tenfold. “What happened, exactly?”

“I promise I’ll tell you, but… Azu, are you okay?” Hamid asks, leaning forward and resting one of his hands on her forearm. 

“I’m fine, Hamid, thank you,” she says. “Please, just… tell me what happened.”

“We got ambushed; Zolf got hurt, but I already made sure he healed himself before we came to check on you. There weren’t many of them. Cel got them good with a bomb, but one of them ran at you and -“ he worries his lower lip, staring nervously up at Azu. “It’s like you… had been frozen. Your ax was mid-swing, about to hit one of the infected, and you just…  _ stopped. _ ” 

Azu shudders; she doesn’t really remember anything, but there’s a strange feeling in the back of her mind that says this is all familiar, has all happened before. 

“Maybe I had a spell cast on me,” she says instead, and Hamid nods, almost too quickly. 

“Of course, that could be it. I was hoping that the infection would interrupt magic users, it’s seemed to in the past, but… we could never get that lucky, eh?” he says with a smile, but there’s pain and stress and loss that keep the smile from reaching his eyes. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Hamid,” Azu says, kneeling down to give him a hug. He squeezes back for all he’s worth, arms wrapping tightly around her neck.

“You don’t have to apologize, Azu,” Hamid says. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

He lets go and steps back, and Azu knows by now not to comment on how bright his eyes are when they separate. “We should get back,” she says instead, and Hamid nods.

“Right.”

Zolf and Cel are chatting about the attack when they get back to their side as well; Zolf looks worried, scanning the path ahead of them, while Cel is fingering a few of the potions in their bandolier, suggesting a few options to Zolf. Zolf doesn’t look all that comforted, but takes the one in their left hand, examining it closely. As they get closer, Zolf notices them coming, and motions to Hamid to step off to the side with him. Hamid follows, and their conversation becomes a low murmur, too far away for Azu to hear, although she's sure she can guess the topic.

“All right, Azu?” Cel asks, bounding over to her side, and Azu gives them a nod. 

“I’ll be fine, really. It must have been a spell of some sort,” Azu explains, and Cel frowns.

“I didn’t  _ feel _ any magical energy, but I wasn’t paying the best of attention anyway, so that could be it… Oh! Wait!” Cel exclaims, before scurrying over to their bag of holding, rooting around through its contents and nearly upending the bag before snapping their fingers. A magical orb appears and they shove it into the bag, light peeking out the sides, and then they cheer in victory as they pull out a few different colored bottles. 

“I’ve uh - I’ve got some energy potion, if that’s your style, or - ooh! some anti-fatigue potion, that’s helpful, maybe just take some of this, that’ll do you good,” Cel rambles, shoving a few potions into Azu’s hand. They point at the bright blue bottle. “This one’ll keep you going, and the other two you can take maybe tonight, should help you get some good sleep and wake you up raring to go.”

Azu wraps her fingers around the bottles and smiles over at Cel. “Thank you, Cel. I appreciate your help.” 

“Anytime,” Cel says. “Just ask, I’ve probably got a potion for it. Never know what could happen to us out here, you’ve gotta come  _ prepared.” _

Azu laughs and slips the other two potions into her bag of holding before uncorking the blue one and drinking it down in one gulp. Almost instantly she feels better, a little more herself, a little more grounded. The strange foggy feeling at the back of her mind has gone away, and she feels more alert than she has all day. 

She might have to ask Cel for some more of these potions, but for now, she’s  _ completely _ fine.

—

Practice is calming. Centering. When Azu was staying at the temple in Cairo, she would spend the evenings outside, practicing her ax strokes in the desert sand. The world might be completely different now, may be completely doomed without hope, but she still finds peace in the routine.

She breathes in and out steadily, slowly moving through the motions that her old teachers had shown her. Her ax sings in her hands as it whistles through the air, and she slowly builds up speed, moving faster and faster through the repetitions until her ax is nothing more than a blur in her hands. 

The song echoes off the walls and fills Azu’s head; she feels more grounded than she has in weeks, more herself, and she keeps swinging the ax as the song builds to a crescendo. With a final yell, she buries the ax into the practice dummy in front of her, nearly shattering it to bits with the force. 

She wipes a streak of sweat off her brow, grabbing a small towel from the bench nearby as she dabs at her face and neck. She rests her ax against the wall, sitting down on the bench as she controls her breathing.

Her eyes slip shut and, for a moment, she can pretend she’s back in Cairo, back before the world began to burn, back when Sasha and Grizzop were still… still with them. 

It… it hurts, still, to think about them. About losing them. Azu wakes from nightmares where she relives that moment again, relives Grizzop’s hand slipping from hers, relives landing on the cold dusty floor of Ancient Rome and realizing that three people weren’t there. Relives Hamid’s scream of pain and terror and confusion. 

It doesn’t do to think about it. Hamid might have hope, might be clinging to it for all he’s worth, but Azu gave up on that a long time ago. All she can do now is move forward, is try to save the world, and pesky things like emotions can’t keep her from doing that. She feels guilty when she picks up the replica of the Heart of Aphrodite from

the bench and pulls it back around her neck, holding the charm in her palm as she lifts it to her lips in a gentle kiss. The metal is cold, but it reminds her of what she’s lost. Pieces of her heart are somewhere in the void with Sasha and Grizzop; she can’t focus on them, anymore, not when the rest of her heart is still alive and still needs her help.

Azu’s changed since meeting them all. Memories float to the forefront of her mind, unbidden, and she tiredly brushes them away, not willing to go down that path at the moment. It only leads to tears and heartbreak, and she’s had enough of that for the time being. 

But that’s enough introspection for now, she decides, and stands up from the bench, dropping the now-sweaty towel into a nearby bin. She hefts her ax over her shoulder and heads out of the training room, closing the door gently behind her. It’s getting late; she supposes that the others might be eating, but Azu doesn’t feel particularly hungry these days. It might be the guilt, or it might be the lack of sleep… she doesn’t know, she just knows that she hasn’t been eating much lately. The lack of food hasn’t been affecting her performance in any noticeable way, and she hasn’t had any more of those strange blackouts. 

She pushes open the door to her room, wondering, and then stops. There’s a strange feeling coursing through her veins, almost like she’s being watched by someone just out of sight. She steps into the room slowly, grip tightening on her ax. 

_ Hello,  _ she hears in her head, and whirls around, trying to place where it’s coming from. There’s no one else in her room, no one she can see, but the voice had to come from somewhere. Unless - she remembers the voice coming to her in Damascus, and looks around a bit more warily. The voice is different - robotic, almost, and Azu is reminded of some of the metal assistants at the bank. It’s not completely the same; those voices sounded blank, an endless repetition of the same few words they had been programmed with, and even in one word this voice sounds almost… cheerful. Curious. 

Still, there’s no one else around, and so she takes a step forward cautiously. There’s the sound of leather and metal brushing against each other, and she looks down, only to see her hand, completely independent of her thoughts, unstrap one of her gauntlets. It falls to the floor with a clang, and Azu stares down at it, confusion slowly being replaced by fear. An awful thought blooms in her head, but before she can act on it her body freezes up. She still has enough presence of mind to look down at the arm that her gauntlet fell off of, exposing the skin below, and sees the hint of blue creeping along her skin. 

No. 

No, no,  _ no _ . It can’t have gotten her, she can’t be infected, not  _ now _ , not when they’re so close. 

She has to warn them, she realizes. None of her friends know, none of them realize; they could be infected too, they could have the virus in their veins just like she does. She takes a step forward, and it’s an  _ effort _ , almost like moving through molasses. Her hand stretches out to open the door and then her arm goes rigid, freezing in place with her fingertips just touching the doorknob. 

_ It’s too early _ , she hears, an echo of a familiar voice, although she can’t remember where she’s heard it before.  _ You’re not ready _ .

The voice is almost disappointed, almost  _ sad _ , and Azu almost gets a question out before her jaw goes slack. She stands there for a moment, eyes staring blankly ahead, and then she walks over to the wardrobe as though being piloted by a robot, pulling new clothes on, and then she collapses on the bed in an almost graceful manner, sound asleep.

—

Azu feels more tired than not, these days. She shouldn’t; she thinks she’s slept more in the past week than she has since first meeting Hamid and Sasha and Grizzop in the desert that Cairo has become. 

It hasn’t become a problem yet, not really, but everytime they stop to rest, she finds herself leaning up against a tree or a rock or a log and letting her eyes slip shut. She’s still awake, still alert and listening for any strange sound, but she’s just  _ tired. _

On this particular mission, once they’ve stopped for a rest, she notices Zolf and Hamid share an unreadable look and leave Cel behind on watch before walking over to where Azu sits, face upturned toward the sun. 

“Are you okay, Azu?” Hamid asks, and a small amount of guilt creeps up on her when she sees his concerned expression. She doesn’t want to be a burden. 

“I am fine, Hamid. It’s just been a long day of traveling,” she says, and stands up, successfully hiding the way her head spins at the sudden movement. 

“It has, at that,” Hamid admits, rubbing his hands together almost nervously. “Are you sure you’re okay? If you need a break, that’s fine, Cel says they can keep watch for a bit.”

Azu shakes her head. “We can keep moving. I believe we should be reaching the inn soon, anyway? Wilde will want to know how the mission went as soon as possible. We can continue.”

Hamid and Zolf share a look again.

“Azu…” Zolf starts, trailing off. “You’d tell us if something was really wrong, yeah?” 

Azu blinks, more than a little taken aback. “Of course I would, Zolf, I wouldn’t put any of us in danger by keeping something important hidden.”

Zolf doesn’t completely look like he believes her; it's not that surprising, considering that they’ve only all known each other for a few weeks, that Zolf is suspicious, but Azu can’t help but be a little hurt. 

It’s reassuring, then, to look at Hamid and see nothing but faith. She gives him a smile and he returns it easily enough, although she can still see the cracks in his smile. They both have them. Everything moves so quickly, now, that they haven’t really had time to speak about Rome. Their time in the cell wasn’t what she’d call  _ restful _ , and she hadn’t trusted Zolf enough to speak about these things in front of him, regardless of how Hamid felt about the man. She trusts him more now - trusts Cel as well - but her bond with Hamid is still stronger. 

“Just…” Zolf trails off, looking a little uncomfortable, and maybe even a little guilty (Hamid had elbowed him in the side, although Azu is pretending she hadn’t noticed). “Let us know if you’re not feeling all yourself, yeah? I - all of us, that is - want you to be at your best.” 

Hamid elbows Zolf again and Zolf hisses in pain, glaring slightly as he looks at Hamid, before sighing. “We want you to be  _ okay _ , which is obviously what I  _ meant _ , Hamid, gods.” 

“Thank you, Zolf,” Azu says, hiding her smile. “I’m alright. A little tired, but I’m fine. Nothing some sleep and food won’t fix.”

“If you’re sure,” Zolf says. “Don’t - we can always stop if you need to rest, okay? Don’t push yourself on our account.”

Azu nods, and Hamid gives her an encouraging smile, mirrored (if slightly unsuccessfully) by Zolf, before the two of them head back to the fire. 

She is okay. The strange feeling of being watched that she’s had has gone away since they’ve been out on the mission, and she might be tired but she’s still not a liability. Pushing the exhaustion away has gotten easier and easier each day; she’s getting used to it, she supposes. It’s fine. She’ll push through today, and then she can collapse when she gets back to the inn. 

Maybe she can convince the cook to whip up some food to help her energy levels, help keep her alert and moving. Cel might be able to make her some potions again; they’d really helped last time, and she knows Cel has the time. They keep

offering to help, and if Azu wants to keep protecting her friends, she should take them up on the offer. 

But that’s a consideration for later, once they’re back and don’t have to keep an extra eye out for virus-laden combatants that may be coming after them. She just has to get back to the inn, and then everything will be alright.

—

This time, when Azu’s pulled back into the world of consciousness, she knows something is intrinsically wrong. For starters, she can’t move; her limbs are locked to her side as she stares up at the ceiling, quiet noises of distress the only sounds she can make when her jaw feels as though it’s been magicked shut. She tries moving her arms; it’s fruitless, and almost feels as though she’s been tightly strapped down to the bed. The only thing she can move are her eyes, flicking frantically back and forth in the darkness. 

She doesn’t know how long she lays there for, struggling against the invisible bonds keeping her pinned. 

In a rush, her memories come flooding back. Discovering the blue veins for the first time, having all evidence covered as the realization was slowly sponged out of her brain; it happening over, and over, and over, memories shifting and changing to keep herself from learning the truth too early. She’d been manipulated from the start, strung along like a kite on a string to the inevitable conclusion. She doesn’t know when she got infected, doesn’t know if it passed on to any of her friends, and she has no way to contact anyone to let them know.

She’s alone. 

It’s a surprise when she feels a strangely familiar presence in the back of her mind, an almost polite intrusion that she can’t do anything to escape. There’s an awful feeling blooming in her gut, and tears run down from the corner of her eyes as she struggles to move, to do anything at all. She knows it doesn’t matter. Once the virus is in your blood, infecting every single part of you, changing who you are, there’s nothing that can be done. Nothing she’s found, at least. She thinks for a moment that maybe it wouldn’t even matter if she could run. The thing, whatever it is, monster, virus, machine… it’s in her brain, now, in her mind, and she doesn’t think it’s something that she’ll ever be able to outrun.

All she can do is sit there, helpless and alone, staring up at a dark ceiling in a darker room, strange presence poking at the back of her mind. 

_ You’re ready, _ she hears, and it’s a sense of wonderment, a sense of awe, and she wants to fight, wants to scream, wants to ask ‘ready for what?’ but she can’t, not when every single muscle of hers refuses to respond. 

There’s nothing she can do.

_ Hello, Azu.  _ She hears again, a voice that’s familiar.  _ My name is Mr. Ceiling. Would you like to be my friend? _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promised a happy ending! again sorry azu you don’t deserve this also just wait till i infect cel
> 
> this was at 700 words about two hours ago.

“ - have to restrain her -“

“- not moving, Azu! -“

“ - gods, Hamid, I’m trying -“

“We don’t know if -“

“ - have to do, Wilde won’t -“

—

“Cel, are you sure…”

“- only one shot at this, okay?”

“- please… please…”

“Cel, you have to -“

—

“... sorry, Azu, I didn’t even -”

“- just… not waking up, Cel, you promised she -”

“Just… give us a few more days, Wilde, we -“

“...please wake up.”

—

She wakes up with her head strangely devoid of pain, with ropes wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Her wrists feel… raw, almost. Burned, as though she’s been struggling against the bonds, but she can’t remember. She tugs gently on them, just to test, and winces as they press against her wounds. The ropes are strong, and she wonders who’s the one who tied them. They don’t seem like they would be easy to break. 

Azu opens her eyes, and glances around. It’s dark, in the room, but she eventually spies the bars separating her from the rest of the basement and realizes that she’s in the anti-magic cell. 

She shifts a bit, trying to get more comfortable on the small cot. Her mouth is so dry, she realizes, and she licks her lips, looking left and right for some water. Not that it matters - her hands are still tied, and she wouldn’t be able to drink anything anyway. 

No one else is here, at least not anyone she can see, and she lets her eyes slip closed again, trying to remember what’s led to her being here. 

Oh! You’re awake! a voice chimes in her ears, and she cracks an eye open, glancing around. I’d lost contact with you for a while, Azu. I became worried. But you’re back! And I can talk to you again! I’m glad. I missed you. 

Right. The voice in her head, the one calling himself Mr. Ceiling. Azu remembers that, now, but she can’t remember why or how it started, not really. Everything is just… so fuzzy. 

Are they trying to hurt you, Azu? she hears, and her head throbs, the first spike of pain she’s felt since waking up. No - no, she doesn’t think so, they’re her friends, they wouldn’t try to. Do friends put friends in ropes and lock them in a cell? It’s worse because the voice sounds genuinely curious, almost like it doesn’t understand. 

“Mr. Ceiling,” she slurs, throat raw and scratchy. Her voice is quiet in the room, even with how empty it is. “What happened?”

I spoke to you, Azu!

“Yes, I remember,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the memories to come back. “What happened after that?”

I don’t know if I should tell you, he says, sounding almost regretful, and Azu frowns, chewing at the inside of her lip. 

“I’d very much like it if you would,” she says, voice a little bit stronger. She can feel Mr. Ceiling’s… regret? Maybe? growing in her head as her head stops swimming as much, as she feels more like herself. 

He doesn’t respond for a moment, but then she swears she feels what must be a sigh in her head, and then he starts speaking, quieter than Azu has ever heard. 

I didn’t mean to scare you, he says, sounding almost worried. I was connecting so many people that some slipped through the cracks. You happened to touch someone while I was in the middle of connecting them, and my influence stretched to you. I was surprised to see Zolf and Hamid again. I don’t know where Sasha is, though, and I still miss her. Do you know where Sasha is, Azu?

She can’t… she can’t answer that right now. Still, she thinks her grief transmits, if the quiet Oh. from Mr. Ceiling is any indication. 

“Mr. Ceiling?” she asks, desperate to change the subject before she can fall too deeply into her own head, and feels his attention turn back solely on her. “What do you mean, connecting?” 

To me, of course! 

“To… you?”

I can show you, if you’d like. But I don’t want you to collapse again. I don’t want to hurt you, Azu.

Azu just shakes her head. She - she has to figure out what this is, what it means, and then maybe she can learn how to fight it.

I’m sorry, Azu, Mr. Ceiling says. But I don’t want you to fight me. 

Her thoughts swim, drowning under the weight of whatever hive mind that she’s been linked to now, and it’s a struggle just to remember herself in the onslaught. She - her thoughts aren’t even her own, she can’t formulate a plan for how to get out of this because everything filters through Mr. Ceiling, and she - 

She doesn’t know why that’s a problem. Mr. Ceiling wants to help people, wants them to all be safe, and Azu is lucky enough to be part of that group. After all, he’s not actually hurting people, not anymore. 

The door at the top of the stairs opens, and Azu feels tens of thousands of people looking through her eyes as she cranes her neck to look, deciding whether she should pretend to be asleep. It’s too late, though; Hamid comes down the stairs, flicking the lamps on, and Azu squints as the dull light assaults her eyes. 

“Azu?” she hears, and she doesn’t know why tears start to fall down her face at the voice. Hamid is standing on the other side of the cells, hands wrapped around the bars as he stairs through, hope shining through in a way he isn’t able to hide. 

When Azu goes to speak, a voice that isn’t hers comes out, and Hamid’s face drops, shuttering instantly. 

“Hello again, Hamid,” something says with her voice. “I’m sorry. Azu will be okay. I like her a lot, and it’s clear she cares a lot about you. You don’t have to be sad!” 

It doesn’t seem to help; Hamid takes a step back at that and shakes his head, horror taking over his features, and Azu tries again.

“I promise she’ll be okay! You don’t have to worry about her, not anymore. She’ll be safe with me.” Hamid doesn’t respond, and Azu wishes she knew why. She wants to ask why he’s so sad, wants to know why every word she says makes him look even more hopeless, and eventually he turns away and leaves her there, alone in the cell as she calls after him, desperate. 

Cel comes down after that, Zolf in tow, and the look on his face is unreadable. Cel looks nervous, apprehensive, and they’ve got a massive needle in her hands that eventually finds its place in Azu’s neck as she attempts to struggle against the grip of the ropes. 

Cel’s face is the last thing she remembers as the darkness takes her over again.

—

“It didn't work! We have to -“

“ - Wilde says - Hamid, listen, we can’t just -“

“Cel, you -“

—

“Azu, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you have -“

—

“- think it worked, boss.”

“ - have to wait -“

—

“Please be okay. I’ll do -“

—

Azu drifts, in and out of consciousness. Time, space, reality… they all stop mattering, really, as she catches snippets of conversation happening around her. Her veins light on fire and she remembers screaming for Aphrodite to save her, screaming for her mother, and then a small hand grasping hers, multiple voices begging for her to be okay, telling her that she has to fight it. 

She remembers, toward the end, a beautiful woman leaning over her, long, interminable locs cascading over her as though they were a blessing. The woman presses a kiss to Azu’s brow and smiles, and it’s so full of love and trust that Azu fears she might die from the weight of it. But it lessens in a moment, and she’s left feeling more free than she ever has before. 

She wakes up, after that, gasping and feeling as though she’s finally able to breathe again after being trapped underwater. Her eyes open; everything is out of focus as she stares up at a ceiling blearily. She coughs once, twice, and tries to move, but her limbs are spread akimbo, tied down with ropes. 

“Hey! Buddy! You’re awake!” Azu hears, and turns to look over near the door. She can see Cel standing there, hair less inflated than normal, wearing some strange glasses that make their eyes look twice as big. “Had us really, really scared for a while there, you know. Hamid was in a state, could barely even move, Zolf had to help him along. But that’s all in the past, cause you’re up now. How are you feeling? Anything too warm? Too cold? Maybe a little stiff? That’s only normal, and er - well, this is the first time we’ve used it, so I’m definitely more than a little interested in any possible side effects or results of the medicine. Anything?”

Azu opens her mouth to speak but all that comes out is a quiet rasp; it feels like she hasn’t had anything to drink in months, with how dry her throat is, and Cel claps once as they grab a cup from a nearby table and scurry closer to the cage. “Right, right, sorry, Zolf told me to do this first. I was just so excited you were alright! Anyway, here’s some water, drink as much as you want, we’ve got more in the pitcher so don’t worry about it, yeah?”

Azu sits up - the ropes are a little looser, this time, and they at least let her reach over to the bars and grab the cup from Cel. They’ve poured a decent amount of water in, and it sloshes over the edges as Azu grabs it, hands shaking a bit. It’s a welcome cold, as she brings it up to her mouth and drinks steadily. Her throat immediately starts to feel better, and she hands the cup back to them. 

“May I have some more?” she asks, and Cel nods rapidly, refilling the cup and handing it back to her. Azu drinks again, and she wonders if water’s ever tasted as good. 

She sets the cup down on a nearby table and turns back to Cel, watching them through the bars. They’ve got a strange contraption on their face, some weirdly colored goggles that obscure their eyes. They’re watching Azu intently, chin resting on the palm of their hand as they stare straight ahead. 

Azu looks around the room and realizes it’s all black and white, meaning that the lamps can’t be on. Cel doesn’t have dark vision, but they seem to be doing just fine. 

“How can you see?” Azu asks, glancing up at them. Cel blinks once, confused, and Azu gestures weakly at the cell around them. “It’s dark.”

“Oh. Oh!” Cel says, nodding vigorously. “You mean the blackness? Yes, you see, it got to be a bit of a nuisance so I had Jasper help me make these.” They pull off their goggles and wave them around, before slipping them back over their head. “Night bright goggles, I call them. Will let you still keep your vision in the dark - I wonder if there’s a better name for them…? No, we’re sticking with that, nevermind. Anyway, now I can see in the dark and I don’t need any pesky potions or spells to help me do it!”

Azu laughs a bit, quiet. It hurts her throat, but she doesn’t really care. “I’ve missed you, Cel.”

They beam at her, adjusting their goggles as they lean forward, elbow resting on their leg. “That’s nice to hear! Any questions? Zolf told me we should wait the week, but he’s just been pretty grumpy recently, probably because of what happened to you, and I’m pretty sure you’re okay and more than a little confused, so I’ll help when I can.”

Azu gives them a smile in return. It’s nice to listen to them ramble again, and brings her a sense of comfort even as she sits in the cell, trying to piece together her memories. “What - what happened? How long have I been here?”

“Well, now, that’s a bit of an interesting conundrum, actually, because it’s been, well, about a week and a half since Hamid and Zolf found you collapsed in your room, about a week since we really figured out what was going on and I had to sedate you - sorry about that, by the way,” Cel says, blushing a bit in embarrassment, and Azu rubs at her neck. “And then… a day? Maybe two? The clocks here are such an inefficient way to track time passing, honestly. It’s been a few days since we tested out the first cure. And now we’re here, and you’re awake!”

Azu nods. “A week and a half?” she repeats, and Cel nods, a bit more muted as they continue. 

“You, er - you spent most of that time sleeping? It seemed very restful, if you ask me, but I really don’t know anything about how any of this works concretely, so you’ll have to let me know if it really was, okay?” 

Azu nods. “It’s all… a lot of it is blurry, but it’s coming back slowly.”

Cel claps their hands together. “I’ll - Wilde says we need someone watching you at all times, but what does he know, anyway? Him and Zolf are so grumpy, I swear, and Hamid’s sad, but you’re awake now, so things will be better. Yeah?” 

“I - I hope so, Cel,” Azu says, and they stand, noisily.

“I’m going to go let them know you’re up. But I’ll… not be quick about it,” they say, giving her a conspiratorial wink. Azu can’t tell them how much she appreciates, she feels like she doesn’t have the words, but they seem to pick up on it at least a little bit. 

She lays back down and closes her eyes, trawling slowly through her memories. Azu remembers mostly everything, now. Remembers waking up, being - being trapped inside her own body, unable to do anything, unable to even twitch. Remembers the voice, echoing around her brain, and shudders. It seems to be gone, now; she doesn’t think it’s just dormant, it… something feels different. She feels more herself, somehow. 

Whatever Cel did, she’s pretty sure it worked. She really owes them a thousand thank yous, and more, for saving her. 

She’s lucky, she realizes. The infection had spread fast through her blood, but it hadn’t… turned her to violence, in the way that it’s turned others. It’s almost like it had another plan for her, one she doesn’t understand. 

The voice hadn’t… Azu doesn’t know how to explain it, but it hadn’t sounded insidious. Hadn’t sounded evil, hadn’t been what she had been expecting. She remembers Mr. Ceiling; of course she does, even if she hadn’t been there for it. Grizzop had explained it to her in detail, and she’d gotten even more context from Hamid and Sasha the more time she’d known them. 

It - she has to remind herself that just because it didn’t sound evil doesn’t mean it wasn’t going to hurt people. It was - it was trying to help, she could feel it reverberating through her entire body, but she doesn’t think it had any real conception of the impact it’s actions had. It had sounded so innocent. So… young, almost. 

Still… Azu’s happy to be rid of it, happy to have her own head back to herself. Even so, she’s under cell arrest for a week, no exceptions. Wilde comes down every day for the inspection, and Cel spends a lot of time with her. Zolf comes down a few times as well, expressing how happy he is for her to be okay, and it’s during one of these visits that Azu asks after Hamid. 

“Is he alright?” she asks. He hasn’t been to visit, and Azu just… she knows she probably won’t be able to see him, but she just needs to know he’s okay, that her being incapacitated hasn’t let to Hamid being hurt or worse. 

Zolf’s wince isn’t a helpful answer. “He’s… he’s alright,” he hedges, and Azu drags herself up. 

“Zolf, please,” she says, and there must be enough desperation in her voice that Zolf caves. 

“He’s fine, Azu, I promise. He’s just… this has been a lot, yeah? He was the one who first found you collapsed, and then when you woke up he was all alone with you… I think he just needs some time?”

Azu lays back down, too tired to cry. “He’s terrified of me.”

“No, no,” Zolf says, quick to correct, and his tone brokers no arguments. “He was scared for you, Azu. Still is. I know he -“ he cuts himself off, and sighs. “He just… needs to know you’re perfectly okay first. Not that, you know, you’re not right now he just… whatever. He says he’s waiting the full week so that he doesn’t have to have his heart broken again. Okay?” 

Azu nods, but it doesn’t stop the way the guilt settles on her shoulders, the way that her chest feels like it’s slowly clenching in on itself and crushing her own heart. 

Cel just repeats what Zolf said, albeit in a much more roundabout way, but neither of them are able to make Azu feel any better about the entire situation. 

She spends most nights laying awake and staring up at the ceiling, wondering if there was anything different she could have done to stop this. She still doesn’t even completely know what triggered it - who she touched, why Mr. Ceiling decided to latch onto her as well. Maybe this was all inevitable, in the end. They’ve all been so lucky, avoiding the infection. It just stands to reason that someone would have been the first to be infected, and that happened to be Azu. 

At least it wasn’t any of her friends.

… She doesn’t get a lot of sleep, that week, kept up too late with what-its. 

But, time passes, even with her constant anxiety; and it gets closer and closer to the end of her imposed quarantine. Eventually, the week finishes, and Hamid finally comes to see her, just like Zolf and Cel promised he would. 

“She’s okay?” is the first thing Hamid says, staring distrustfully at the cell. Azu feels her heart sink just a bit lower, knowing that she’s the reason he has that look on his face. She’d made a promise, after Rome, to always keep him safe, and she can’t help feeling as though she’s been failing miserably. 

“She’s okay,” Zolf says, and opens the bars. “Now. You two. Talk.” He steps in and cuts the bonds keeping Azu tied down, but Hamid hesitates, staring at the ropes as they fall to the ground. Zolf steps back out and sighs, long-suffering, and gives Hamid a gentle shove on the back, sending him stumbling through the now-open door. “I’ll be upstairs. Call me when you wanna come up.” 

Azu wants to retort that she can walk on her own, but over a week of laying down’s made her legs feel weak and barely-there, so she’s most likely going to be taking Zolf up on his offer.

He leaves the door to the main floor open as he goes up, and then it's just Hamid and herself, both waiting there in silence.

“Azu, I’m so glad -“

“I’m so sorry, Hamid -“

They both speak at the same time, and Hamid cracks a smile as Azu claps a hand over her mouth. He gestures for her to go first, and Azu sighs, letting her hands fall to her lap. 

“Hamid, I’m sorry. I - I didn’t mean for this to happen. I should have realized it was happening earlier, I should have… fought it off, harder. I’m - I’m so sorry,” Azu finishes, choking up, and Hamid is in front of her in a minute, clambering up onto the cot and kneeling in front of her. hands resting on his thighs. 

“What?” he asks, tilting his head and forcing Azu to look at him. “Azu, why are you apologizing?”

“Aren’t you mad?” Azu asks, shaking her head. “I - We promised to protect each other, and I couldn’t even -“

“No, Azu. I could never be mad at you for this,” Hamid says, wringing his hands. “I - I was so scared, and then your voice was - and then Cel had to knock you out, and none of us knew if it would be okay, and… I didn’t want to lose you, Azu, I - I couldn’t.” 

It’s like a dam breaks, at that. Azu’s arms open and Hamid goes willingly. 

“I’m so happy you’re alright,” Hamid sobs into her neck, wrapping his shaking arms around her back. Azu hugs him back, tightly, and feels tears on her own face to match. 

“I’m so sorry, Hamid,” she says, voice cracking, and Hamid just shakes his head where it’s pressed against her shoulder. 

“It’s - Azu, no,” he says, sounding wrecked. “It’s not your fault. You - you couldn’t have known. Please, just -“ Hamid says, curling in closer. “Just be okay. I don’t want to lose anyone else, and especially none of you.”

“Okay. I’m okay,” she whispers, holding Hamid tight, and leaning back, staring up at the ceiling and thanking Aphrodite that he’s still there, still alright. “I’m okay.”

They still have to go up and face the others, but Azu isn’t in any rush. For now, she can comfort Hamid, and he can comfort her, and they can handle the rest of the world later. Together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> abby can no longer hold this over my head 
> 
> comments and kudoses are super appreciated!! check out rqgfemslashweek on tumblr, the event starts in like 3 weeks and the more people who participate the merrier!!

**Author's Note:**

> my thought process was: thinking about mr ceiling, thinking abt how alex described the mind controlled people as zombified, thinking abt how cool it would be if mr ceiling were back, taking over the world to become a god. made this. do i think it’s canon? no. am i having fun anyway? absolutely
> 
> i was gonna do mr ceiling convincing azu to let him in by saying he could get grizzop and sasha back from the astral plane but that just felt too mean


End file.
